Doctor, Doctor
by The Redjay
Summary: Title: Doctor, doctor  Word count: 2794  Rating: PG-13  Fandom: Torchwood  Pairings: Captain Jack Harkness!Ianto  Synopsis: When an alien illness is caught by Ianto Jones, Captain Jack Harkness decides to play doctor.


Ianto had never liked the blowfish aliens; even Jack didn't know what they were actually called, and that was unnerving in itself. But what bothered Ianto the most was that whenever he saw one (and there seemed to be rather a lot of them in Cardiff) he was reminded of the time when Jack had vanished without a word. And there had never been a time so dark as those few months, no matter how much energy Gwen had tried to insert into the situation, how much Owen had tried to convince them all that Jack was an arse, how much Tosh tried to create when they had time on their hands because they hadn't caught the aliens they'd been hunting. No matter how they distracted themselves from it, the fact remained that Torchwood Three just wasn't the same without Captain Jack Harkness, and even Owen was missing him. But for Ianto it was hardest of all, which was why, when yet another blowfish had decided to follow the example of the first one they'd met and attempt to blow a family's brains out in the centre of Cardiff, Ianto hadn't been especially excited about being part of the rescue team.

Of course, it was a rescue team of two, with another three connected to the two with high tech video cameras capped into Jack's irises and microphone bugs that they were both wearing. On any other mission Ianto would've enjoyed the alone time with his unofficial partner, but this time his mind was on the idea of said partner leaving rather than said partner's homecoming, and it was enough to bring the generally soldier-like steadfast tea boy to his knees if he wasn't already. Which, being Ianto, he was. Sometimes, he had to ask himself why he'd spent days wooing Jack with coffee all to catch a pterodactyl and get a job; he was a tea boy, a receptionist, not a field man! Things like this happened when Ianto wasn't in his area of expertise, which was making the kind of coffee which could reduce his co-workers to delighted puddles of caffeine addicts. This happened to be being on his knees with his hands behind his head and a gun pressed to his forehead, while Jack attempted to talk reason with the alien rather than succumb to his instinct of shooting and then asking questions. About to die, just like last time.

As Ianto held back a whimper, doing his best to do what Jack would do and stare down the red and orange blowfish with the gun trained on him as the family managed to creep behind Jack (which in theory was good, since it meant they'd accomplished what they came to do and if they got out of this alive could Retcon the family in good time), Jack raised his hands, doing his best to do what The Doctor would do. "No, we can talk about this. Just take the gun away from my friend, and we won't press charges."

"I'm not a fool, Captain Harkness."

"You're threatening a friend of mine, and I'm not happy. You won't like me when I'm in a bad mood."

Jack raises his gun again for a moment, then dropped it again swiftly as the blowfish moved his gun to grind it further into Ianto's skull. He took a deep and calming breath, and put his gun back into his belt, proving he was no unarmed as he ushered the family out the door behind him. There, Tosh could find names, they could deal with them later. Ianto was the main concern right now, and keeping the team safe. He'd failed before, but he wouldn't do so again; Ianto was counting on him, and Jack hadn't yet been able to admit it, even to himself, but he didn't know what he'd do without the Welshman nowadays. He loved him, even more than he'd ever been attracted to The Doctor, or even to John. They complimented and completed each other, and Ianto was what kept the immortal man going when he just wished he could die already.

The blowfish laughed, relishing the feel of the cold gun in his hands, the fear in his victim's eyes. Their race were a violent lot, living off of the emotions of others and often preferring the negative ones. All this fear, anger and testosterone, it was like taking a particularly powerful drug… And he was on those, too, a strong white powder that went nicely with the alcohol he'd been consuming. Of course, considering the blowfish weren't built to live on Sol-3, Earth, no one had ever told them not to mix drugs and alcohol. Or, for that matter, that both, in such high quantities, was both dangerous and illegal. Frankly, Jack didn't care, nor did he think the blowfish did, and he would be right.

"Oh no you don't!" Prepping his finger onto the trigger, the blowfish was ready to shoot just as Jack growled and whipped out his gun before he could pull the trigger, landing two bullets dead in the centre of the blowfish's brain, pausing to check on Ianto before firing again, into the alien's chest. As a general rule he didn't care much for murder, but there were definitely extenuating circumstances. Sliding the gun down slowly, his hands shaking much more than usual, Jack crossed over to Ianto, ducking down like The Doctor to put his arms around him soothingly and pulling him out of the way as the blowfish fell to his knees then face. Stroking between the Welshman's shoulder blades as Ianto succumbed to tears, Jack pressed his hand to his ear.

"Owen, cleanup at 8 Menai Drive."

Back at the Hub, Owen groaned. "Got the fish?"

"Nope." Replied Jack into the microphone, kissing Ianto's forehead and pulling him to his feet. He would have to get Ianto warm, and quick; he'd gone into shock, pupils dilated and shivers racking his body. He turned off the mic, ignoring Owen's remark of 'of course' and half carried Ianto back to the SUV after making sure the family they'd come to help had indeed run.

"Jack, I'm f-f-fine."

"No you're not. You're shivering, Yan."

Ianto sighed, and took a deep breath, pulling the blankets further around his shoulders with a blush. "I'm _fine._" Jack had insisted that after their assignment, Ianto was in shock. He'd also insisted (since outside it was pouring down with rain and sleet) that the best way to warm up a person drenched in cold water when in shock was to get them out of their wet clothes. He'd sent Owen, Tosh and Gwen home early, and got right along to business in reminding Ianto that since he was in charge he wasn't going to have his employees dying on him. Although Ianto still noticed that Jack was the only one wearing trousers…

"Come on Yan, I don't want to lose you." Jack fixed Ianto with a deep, affectionate look and shuffled backwards slightly, as though unwilling to admit he had feelings for the other man. After all, Jack wouldn't die, and Ianto would, and he hated to dwell on the fact. Rubbing his temples and planting another kiss on Ianto's forehead, he walked over to the coffee machine with a confused expression. "Any of that special brew of yours left over, or shall I try and copy the magic?" He smirked cheerfully, picking up a plastic tumbler full of Ianto's ready-made coffee, and turned on the electric kettle to boil the water.

Ianto shot Jack a pained look. It was killing him, being naked while Jack wasn't, being naked at all in front of man he was only just beginning to say he had feelings for past the occasional one night stand behind the plastic plant or kiss and make up after a bad round of weevil hunting. And Jack knew fine that Ianto didn't like anyone but himself making coffee for the team, even if he _was _trying to be nice and make up for how the blowfish had used him against Jack. Blushing, slightly furious, he turned his back, pulling the covers even further close and trying to control his shivers. He _was _pretty shaken up. Leaning back in the chair and closing his eyes, Ianto was asleep before Jack was even back with the coffee, pale.

"Yan? Yan, it's okay, I'm right here, wake up…"

Ianto groaned, curled his body up in the small bed, then opened his eyes with a start. He was still naked, although Jack had clearly found him a pair of his briefs, and he hadn't remembered getting into bed. He must have fallen asleep, or passed out, maybe Jack was right and he was in worse shape than he'd thought. When he thought about it, he really did feel awful, like he had a really bad flu that needed nurturing or a hangover or something. Maybe it was the rain. Whatever it was, Ianto found himself leaning against Jack's bare chest, the man who always seemed to be running a fever and groaning into Jack gratefully.

"I feel awful, Jack. I think I have a cold."

"Man flu, Yan."

"No, I'm serious."

Jack shushed Ianto again, pulling him closer to plant a kiss first on his forehead and then on his lips. How could he explain that it had been three or four days since Ianto had fallen sick from the shock and the cold and the exposure to whatever toxin Owen had found running through the blowfish's system after the biopsy? That they weren't in the Hub anymore but in Ianto's apartment, where Jack had taken his spare key and an unconscious Ianto? That he'd told the team what had happened and had taken leave to stay with Ianto as long as he had to? That he was terrified he might lose Ianto…? He couldn't, those were things that Jack couldn't say, just like The Doctor couldn't talk to people about how he felt. All he could do was look after Ianto.

"You're sick, but you're getting better. You had a bad dream, so I took you home." Not quite a lie, and Ianto didn't press matters. It meant so much to him that Jack was here, after all, because he knew how much Jack was scared of commitment. Not that Jack would ever say that aloud. And it was nice just to be this close to him without having to worry about anything, because his immortal guardian angel had it all under control. Ianto smiled through his slight fever, the sweat beading on his back, and nuzzled into Jack with a grateful blink nod. He felt safer at home, but safest with Jack; here, he had the best of two worlds.

"Yeah, I did…" Ianto paused, then sat up slowly with one hand on his head, too hot to be embarrassed. Groping in the dark for a glass of water, he was still by Jack's firm hand on his chest, holding him back with a lover's gentle care as he handed him the tall glass he'd poured earlier. "Thanks." Taking a deep and greedy gulp, he choked slightly, leaning back onto the pillows and Jack as he caught his breath again, and blushed lightly. Jack gently cupped his hands around Ianto's and tipped the glass back lovingly.

"Drink it slowly." Ianto nodded, and had soon finished the glass, leaning back against Jack with a shiver and closing his eyes. Pulling the sheets around them both again Jack pulled Ianto back into their embrace and rested his chin on the Welshman's head with a worried smile. "Come on, get some sleep. I'll still be here in the morning. I'm not going anywhere."

"Thanks, Jack."

It had been over a week now, and Ianto Jones was pretty much better. Tosh had been able to isolate what had made Ianto sick in the first place, and armed with hot drinks, blankets and his company Jack had nursed him back to health with the antidote. Gwen had come by every few days with a news report (Jack had read only one of them, and only because it was about the blowfish who had made Ianto ill) and even Owen had brought around a bottle of Famous Grouse because he'd been told by Tosh that hot whiskey was good for a cold. Without Ianto, they were _all _lost, and they knew it, even if Ianto didn't. But Jack was doing his very best to show Ianto how much _he_, personally, needed him.

It was a job well done. Christmas Eve had come, and Ianto was up and about, bustling around his kitchen and making coffee. Jack would've tried to stop him, if it weren't for how much he knew Ianto loved making coffee. If he was like this, it was a good sign, meant he was getting better. He'd even put up with an impromptu visit from his sister and his niece and nephew, which so far as Jack was concerned was nothing short of a Christmas miracle. Rhiannon had even brought him some of the cake she'd bought, passed scant comment on exactly who Jack thought he was, and left a present. But it was the thought that counted at Christmas, and the colour was back in Ianto's cheeks even without it. Jack would have to go back to the Hub soon, he was sure.

Ianto came and sat beside Jack, handing him a cup of coffee roughly the size of his head. After Jack's moan of satisfaction and his first gulp in a week, he listened to exactly what had happened, and how long he'd been out for. He'd been delirious for most of the week, and most of his memories were of fears of losing Jack, and of Lisa, and of cybermen and blowfish. It had been a lot for him to take, but he hadn't signed up to work for Torchwood expecting a pleasure cruise. Taking a biscuit from the packet in the middle of the table, he lent his head on Jack's shoulder.

"Long week, huh?"

"You're telling me." Jack swished his coffee once then took another deep swallow, keeping his eyes constantly on Ianto. Melting inside, watching Jack's battle hardened blue eyes with his own darker pair, Ianto smiled. Jack could take a hint. "Best spent with you."

Ianto blushed. "What did I do to deserve you?"

"Pterodactyl, if I remember."

"Oh yeah." If it was possible, the tea boy – so much more than a tea boy – blushed even further, then raised an amused eyebrow. He was still pretty chilly, after all, and no amount of coffee was going to warm him up as much as Jack had. "Remind me what happened?"

"Well." Jack smirked playfully, motioning at the sky. "You got any chocolate? I think I should be allowed some chocolate first, if I'm going to mimic the pterodactyl. But don't expect _me _to fly."

Ianto reached into the top cupboard of his kitchen shakily before waving a bar of dark chocolate triumphantly in front of Jack's face. Jack took the bar, slipped a square between his teeth and leaned in for a kiss, pulling Ianto close towards him from the waist and informing him, muffled by chocolate, that he had caught him. Next thing Ianto knew, Jack was on top of him, on the floor, and kissing him passionately, the chocolate bitten in half by the sheer force of the drop and the kiss and Ianto was moaning as Jack rubbed his shoulders where they'd hit the floor, soothing him, breathing down on him.

"There wasn't… a kiss… before…!" Protested Ianto, moaning into Jack's neck with the cold buttons of that infamous coat pressing into his chest.

Jack laughed, and kissed him once more, gently this time, savouring the moment and the taste of caffeine that was always on Ianto's lips. "I'm making an improvement."

"I thought you didn't mess with your kind of perfection."

"Touché." Suddenly, Jack rolled, pulling down a chair with one ankle to simulate the falling of the pterodactyl, and Ianto felt himself aroused all over again as it was his turn to press against Jack, grasping his upper arm. "And that's how it happened." Cheeks pink, Ianto reached into his shirt pocket, pulling out his favourite stopwatch, and Jack couldn't help but laugh.

"I think it was faster that time."

"Really? Must be losing my touch." He winked. "Ready to try again?"

"Of course, only…" Ianto pouted slightly, pressing his lips to the bare skin below Jack's chin and unbuttoning his shirt, pulling the suspenders down just off the larger man's shoulders before whispering in his ear, breathing seductively. "Lots of things you can do with a stopwatch."


End file.
